


Vegas, baby

by FlirtyFroggy



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Intercrural Sex, M/M, PWP, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 22:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2286753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Jack watches Joe climb out of the pool; the slide and play of the muscles in his back, the water glistening on his skin. Joe casts another look over his shoulder before heading around the side of the bar.</i>
</p><p> <i>A sensible person would stay put – swim a couple of laps or maybe find a sunlounger and order a cocktail.</i></p><p>  <i>People call Jack a lot of things, but sensible is rarely one of them.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Vegas, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/10208.html?thread=5719264#t5719264) prompt at the kink meme and I'm finally getting around to posting it here. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not meant to imply anything about any actual people or their lives. It's just for fun.

Jack can’t believe it. Except he can totally believe because it’s fucking Joe.

One minute they had been messing about in the pool – fighting, splashing, getting on everyone’s nerves – and the next Joe had one arm around Jack’s waist and was using his other hand to clamp Jack’s chin and tip his head back. Then he’d fucking kissed him right there in the fucking pool. Once at the side of his mouth and then again on the lips, plunging his tongue into his mouth before pulling back and giving Jack that look, that fucking look, before he turned away.

Jack watches Joe climb out of the pool; the slide and play of the muscles in his back, the water glistening on his skin. Joe casts another look over his shoulder before heading around the side of the bar.

A sensible person would stay put – swim a couple of laps or maybe find a sunlounger and order a cocktail.

People call Jack a lot of things, but sensible is rarely one of them.

Jack hauls himself out of the pool and walks as casually as he can towards the bar, then heads round the corner and down a path, following Joe’s wet footprints like a trail of breadcrumbs. He hasn’t gone far when he finds himself in a kind of storage area behind the bar. It looks like there’s been an explosion in Ikea – chairs and tables are piled precariously high, sunloungers scattered in various states of repair, parasols propped against the wall. And Joe in the middle of it all, his soaking wet shorts clinging in a way that makes Jack’s mouth water, looking him appreciatively up and down.

“Come here, Jack,” he says quietly, and Jack steps forward until he’s just within arms’ reach. Joe reaches out, grips his wrists and pulls him forward. The kiss is hard and fierce; Jack tries to reach up, to grab onto Joe, but Joe keeps his hold, uses it to twist them both round and push Jack down. Jack lands on his back, slightly breathless, on what appears to be a small stack of some sort of exercise mats. Joe kisses him again, pinning his hands above his head, and then abruptly lets go and stands up. He bends down almost immediately, places his hands on Jack’s waist and pulls off his swim shorts. Then he shucks off his own shorts and stands there, looking down at where Jack lies naked and bewildered on the pile of mats. If Jack was in any sort of mental state to be thinking at all, he would estimate that the entire operation has taken Joe no more than thirty seconds. Joe looks him up and down again, his eyes lingering on Jack’s cock, which has been half-hard since Joe kissed him in the pool.

“Jack,” he pouts, palming his own erection. “I’m hurt. I’m offended. I thought you had a raging hard-on for me all the time.”

“Fuck you, Hart,” Jack manages, watching Joe’s hands. He’s almost fully hard himself now, and Joe’s a fucking bastard.

“No time for that,” Joe says cheerfully. “Maybe later.” He kneels between Jack’s legs and takes him in his mouth, swallowing him down in one smooth motion. Jack leans his head back and lets out a moan. It only takes a few swipes of Joe’s clever tongue, a few quick sucks on Jack’s balls, for Jack to be as hard and aching as he’s ever been in his life.

Joe sits back on his heels looking smug and Jack rolls his eyes. “Is that really what you fucking dragged me back here for? Half a blowjob?”

“You know we’re not done yet. Stop whining.” Joe produces a bottle of sunscreen from… somewhere and pours some onto his hands before using it to coat his cock. His eyes flutter half-closed as he strokes his hands up and down his shaft.

“So you dragged me back here to watch you get yourself off?” Jack chokes out, eyeing Joe’s movements apprehensively. Joe wasn’t really going to fuck him just like that was he? No preparation and a bit of sunscreen for lube? “Uh, Joe…”

Joe opens his eyes, and he must see the worry in Jack’s face because he smiles softly and pats his cheek. “Relax, Jacky. I wouldn’t do that to you.” He reaches for the sunscreen again, pushes Jack’s legs further apart and pours the sunscreen over the inside of his thighs, smoothing his hands over the skin until Jack is slick and slippery from knee to groin. Joe studies him for a moment, considering. “Hmm. This would be easier if you were on your front. But I want to see your face when you come.” He pushes Jack’s legs up towards his chest, then hooks Jack’s knees over his arms so his thighs are pressed together but his lower legs are splayed outwards. Joe hoists him up slightly so his lower back is lifted off the ground. Jack can feel the length of Joe’s cock pressing against his hamstring. “Can you do this for me, Jacky? Can you hold like this while I slide in between?” Jack nods and Joe gives him the bright, brilliant smile that is the reason Jack started doing stupid stuff like this in the first place.

Jack’s not sure he actually can hold like this, but from the looks of Joe’s cock – red, swollen and leaking – as he pushes it between Jack’s thighs, and the guttural moan that erupts from Joe’s throat, he doesn’t think he’ll have to hold it for very long. He watches in fascination as the head of Joe’s cock disappears and reappears between his thighs, but as incredible as the sight is, it’s not going to get him off all by itself. He wraps his hand around his own cock and starts to work up a rhythm, doing his best to keep his legs squeezed tight for Joe. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the feel of Joe sliding against his skin, the tension coiling in his abdomen, the knowledge that Joe is watching him bring himself off. He can hear people shouting and splashing in the pool, the low murmur of conversation, and it occurs to some distant part of his brain that if he can hear them then maybe they can hear him.

Joe’s thrusts speed up and Jack opens his eyes again just as Joe shifts position, lowering himself over Jack in a way that’s sure to wreak havoc on his back and raising Jack just a little higher. The change causes Joe’s cock to rub against Jack’s balls with every thrust, the tip just brushing against Jack’s shaft. Jack lets out a sound he didn’t know he was capable of making and Joe speeds up again. Joe’s close now, Jack can tell, so he clamps his thighs together as tight as he can, flexing the muscles.

“Fucking Christ, Jack. Fuck,” Joe gasps as his hips stutter and his rhythm falters and then he’s coming all over Jack’s thighs and hands and cock. He lowers Jack’s legs clumsily and leans over him, panting hard.

Jack’s hands are moving faster now, slicked-up with Joe’s come, gliding over his heated skin, and he’s close, he’s so fucking close, but he can’t quite – “Joe, fuck. Joe, please, please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for but then Joe’s fingers entangle with his and wrap around his shaft and they work him together and Joe’s face is only inches from his and there’s no trace of a smile there at all anymore, and the heat and tension build until Jack doesn’t think he can bear it anymore and then he’s arching up into Joe and coming over their joined hands and across his stomach before collapsing back down, exhausted.

It takes them a minute or two to get their breath back and then Joe presses a kiss to Jack’s temple and levers himself up. His gaze runs over Jack’s body and Jack wonders what he must look like, naked and spent and covered in come. Joe looks unbearably pleased with himself.

“Well, that was fun,” he says, and his jaunty tone is only slightly marred by the breathless catch in his voice. Jack rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you, Hart.”


End file.
